Hidden beneath, it shields and conceals, a borrowed identity it reveals. In masquerades, it takes the stage, a face unknown in this playful charade.

I don’t have a mouth, yet I express. I move around without bearing flesh. Reinvented constantly just to stay on track, And yet, I’m always under attack.

Form of poetry Oftentimes about nature With Japanese roots

Although great under pressure, when in the spotlight is when I shine best. I can be as common as sand or more rare than the truth. But you won't take me home until I pass a test. What am I?

A sturdy traveler on two feet, it dances through puddles and marches through snow, shielding from wet and cold below.